


Something New

by risotto



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Ushijima Wakatoshi, Established Relationship, M/M, Massage, Post-Canon, UshiKita
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27017218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risotto/pseuds/risotto
Summary: “We’ve got all night. Let’s just try somethin’ new for a change now, mm?”(Alternate summary: Kita surprises his boyfriend with a massage and something else.)
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 105





	Something New

**Author's Note:**

> For the UshiKita Village. You guys are awesome. Hope you'll enjoy.

The Kita-Ushijima home thrives on routines and patterns.

When the Schweiden Adlers have games, Wakatoshi comes in through the door half past six in the evening. Shinsuke, already home by then, will run him a bath and fix dinner—something Shinsuke would prepare using fresh ingredients from the farm, or he’ll heat up one of the weekly meals prepared in advance for Wakatoshi by the Adlers’ nutritionist. They’ll then eat dinner together and spend the rest of the evening quietly reading or cuddling or talking. By ten-thirty they’ll turn in for bed; eleven if they’re feeling frisky. At five the next day, they’ll wake up together and start the day anew.

Simple and predictable, it works for them.

Not that Wakatoshi’s _always_ predictable. Sometimes, he’d do something unexpected, like bring flowers up out of the garden because he knew Shinsuke liked the smell drifting through the house; or he would straighten things up during his downtime while Shinsuke was out in the fields; often, he'd purposefully leave his shirt unbuttoned because he may have noticed the extra attention Shinsuke gave that region of his body in and out of the bedroom.

But, as with the rest of their lives, intimacy became a pattern. 

Shinsuke was never left unsatisfied by their sex. It’s something good and safe that’s proven to be more than adequate. Kissing Wakatoshi is still dizzying; his strong hands are still skilled and capable in the knowledge of Shinsuke’s body. 

But Shinsuke can’t help noticing how Wakatoshi holds back, adheres to what he knows as safe and easy, never straying far from the script. He can’t relax. And that, in turn, makes it hard for Shinsuke himself to relax.

Wakatoshi sticks to routines and schedules like they’re the law, and he has very little experience with pulling himself out of them. Shinsuke has no intentions of changing this about Wakatoshi, or even expects that someone so quietly stubborn would even stand for a change. But, after some back-and-forth about it in his own mind, Shinsuke came to the conclusion that this particular part of their routine should be discouraged. He can’t imagine this cycle being anything but detrimental to their relationship in the long run. He has to nip it in the bud, as Granny would often say.

And so here he is, waiting for his lover to return home.

He’d spent nearly an hour just bathing and adjusting their bedroom to perfection. He even lit candles, though a part of him figured Wakatoshi wouldn’t notice them unless they smelled like a well-used volleyball. But it’s all atmosphere, all background, all engineered to put him at ease. 

It’s early in the evening now. Soon, Wakatoshi will arrive from his latest game with the Adlers. They won their away game yesterday, two-to-nothing over the Green Rockets. No celebratory dinner on the table to greet him, however—there’s some leftover curry in the fridge but, really, dinner and volleyball are the last things Shinsuke wants Wakatoshi to think about tonight.

Gravel crunching beneath tires followed by a car door slamming shut is the first cue for Shinsuke to spring into action. He slips into a shapeless robe, then hurries out to Wakatoshi, whom he finds toeing off his shoes in the genkan.

The clock on the sideboard reads 18:33. Right on time.

“Welcome home,” Shinsuke greets him with a slight grin.

“I’m home,” Wakatoshi greets back, his lips twitching into the smile reserved only for Shinsuke. Two parts affection, one part grateful, all dimples and honesty.

“Were you just in the bath?” he asks, stooping for a moment to put his sneakers in their shoe-cubby, neat and organized as always.

“No, just waitin’ for ya.” Shinsuke holds out his hand, waiting for Wakatoshi to squeeze his fingers. 

It’s part of their ritual, and though this night is about changing habits and the like, Shinsuke can’t find it in him to stray from this part. As expected, Wakatoshi squeezes his hand affectionately, then pulls him forward into a light kiss. They spend a quiet moment like this in the genkan, just enwrapped in each other without exchanging a single word.

Then they break apart and move further into their home. Still quiet, same as always. Not even a remark about the strong wafting scent from the candles—Shinsuke didn’t expect Wakatoshi to say anything but the other man’s confused, furrowed brow is enough. He grins in silent victory and slides open the door to their bathroom. 

“I ran the bath,” he explains when Wakatoshi regards their tub. The water’s still hot, but not scalding, just how Wakatoshi likes it. “But I was hopin’, maybe, you could make it a quick one?”

“Sure,” Wakatoshi says, as he begins to peel away the layers of clothes from his body.

Shinsuke would be lying if the idea of just standing there and watching the strong lines of his lover’s body twist and turn didn’t tempt him, but he’s got other plans. Smiling a little to himself, he takes his usual perch in the bath’s antechamber and keeps the door open.

They chat as Wakatoshi bathes, just some safe details about the game and some questions about their upcoming weekend and deliveries scheduled to go out for Onigiri Miya for proper testing. When Wakatoshi steps out, squeaky clean and sleek and gleaming, Shinsuke’s ready for him with a towel. 

“Don’t get dressed.”

Wakatoshi lifts one of his thick eyebrows as his gaze flits down to the loose knot tied in Shinsuke’s bathrobe. It’s about as telling as it gets with him. Instead of voicing his concerns or anything, Wakatoshi waits a long, quiet moment…then drops the towel on his head and starts drying his hair. 

Cheeky dork. Oh well—Shinsuke expected this. 

The bathrobe he's wearing doesn’t last two steps into the hallway. As Shinsuke had hoped, Wakatoshi swiftly follows behind him like a well-trained puppy. 

“Follow me,” he commands in a simple tone, barely able to contain his smirk. Trying to seem as if he hadn’t spent the better part of an hour debating on if he should strut naked through their home is rather easy when his back is to Wakatoshi, he finds.

They make it to the doorway of the master bedroom. Wakatoshi catches up to him, strong arms wrapping tight around Shinsuke’s waist. His voice now pleasantly husky, “You don't need—”

“I know,” Shinsuke hums as he turns in that embrace and idly reaches a hand up to stroke his fingers along that strong jaw and those high cheekbones and up into those half-damp bangs. “But I wanna.”

They move with an easy familiarity into the bedroom. The scent of vanilla comes at them in a wave and Wakatoshi gawks, wide-eyed, at the half-dozen or so oval wick-flames burning around the room.

Shinsuke laughs a little and pulls him in.

As they reach the bed, Wakatoshi moves to his side of it, ready to drop right into routine, but Shinsuke, both gentle and resolute, keeps him at bay with just one hand. “I want to give you a massage,” he tells him, and before any protests, he adds, “It’ll be fine. Not like those rough ones the trainers give, trust me.”

Shinsuke breathes in slow and deep, his bottom lip pinched with his teeth, and waits. Wakatoshi could make an excuse about being tired, or injured; he could also end up being vehemently against the idea, even if it was a near-exact impossibility. Shinsuke doesn’t think Wakatoshi will refuse him, but… 

Wakatoshi smiles a little and that’s when Shinsuke knows he has him in the palm of his hand. “Of course.”

He has Wakatoshi lie on his stomach and straddles his thighs while he reaches for the oil in the nightstand. The oil is a special blend, advertised for “intimacy” and formulated for both massage and lubrication. Odorless and silky in texture—not too oily, not too runny—it’s actually perfect. 

After warming the soft, slippery liquid in his hands, Shinsuke uses practiced fingers to find a cluster of knots at the apex of Wakatoshi’s spine, right below his neck. There’s a grunt at first, then a soft sigh as Shinsuke starts to knead out a knot. Slowly but surely, he feels Wakatoshi start to relax into the mattress.

So far so good.

“Don’t go sleepin’ on me,” Shinsuke drawls, playful. 

He works with the pads of his fingers, then replaces them with the blunt tips of his nails, dragging them, feather-light, over sun-kissed skin, stimulating the places he just palliated. Perhaps surprised by the unexpected shift in sensation, Wakatoshi stiffens and takes a sudden, long breath through his nose. And before he could speak or even steal a moment to recover himself, Shinsuke does it again, grinning when he feels a shudder ripple through the powerful body pinned beneath him.

“Ya like it?” he teases.

The tension in Wakatoshi’s strong brow melts away like ice. And he’s so _so_ beautiful. “Mmhm.”

Shinsuke isn’t a trained masseuse by any means. If anything, Wakatoshi has more experience giving massages than he does. But he knows what he likes, knows what Wakatoshi likes, and has a vivid enough imagination to figure out where to strike.

The maze of veins along his forearms and at the vulnerable juncture of his powerful wrists. The soft hair at the nape of his neck. The sharp shoulder-blades, down the hard and strong line of his back. Down to his clear-cut Apollo’s belt and the shallow indents beyond. Lower still, teasing the sensitive curve behind his knee before venturing up but taking his sweet time. Waiting, somehow, for some sign that this might have chipped away even a piece of Wakatoshi’s resolve…

“Shinsuke…”

It’s hardly even a whisper, choked out on a breath, half pleading. But it’s enough.

Wakatoshi’s hardened dick trapped against the mattress and he’s starting to wiggle around, threatening to throw Shinsuke off-balance. When he tries to lift to his knees, Shinsuke stops him with a steady hand and an authoritative voice, “ _Wakatoshi_. Do ya want me t’stop?”

“N-No, but—”

Shinsuke leans and presses a soothing kiss between Wakatoshi’s shoulder-blades where the skin has turned nearly scalding to the touch. “Then trust me.” 

Shinsuke’s hands trace an invisible path down to Wakatoshi’s ass. Wakatoshi is pulling in long, shuddering breaths that shake his large body in ways that not even five-set games can. He’s gorgeous like this, exposed and susceptible. Shinsuke's ego would swell if he took pride in such things to begin with—he can certainly see how this sort of thing can become addictive. 

He splays his fingers out and slightly flexes them, massages the taut globes of his lover’s ass, spreading them apart then releasing them, and smirking when Wakatoshi hisses and tenses up, readying himself for what, ultimately, doesn’t come.

“No, not yet, baby.” Shinsuke runs his thumb over the crease and Wakatoshi shivers, his large fingers curling into the covers beneath him, a pretty flush flaring on his skin. 

Spreading him open again, Shinsuke tips down and plunges his tongue into his ass and, just as quick and easy, Wakatoshi falls apart. He’s outright panting and grunting now and Shinsuke can’t tell if it’s out of greed or desperation. “ _Shinsuke_ —”

“Won’t be long, I promise,” he murmurs as he gathers more oil into his hands.

Working Wakatoshi open is met with little to no resistance thanks to how loose and supple the massage made him, so there’s no rough jamming, no careless smearing, no unnecessary pressure even when he’s picking up the pace and stretching his fingers apart. Shinsuke’s pumping three fingers, knuckle-deep, in and out of him when he decides that maybe, just maybe, Wakatoshi’s ready.

When he finally pushes inside, the blunt, thick tip of his cock sliding in easily, Shinsuke gasps but he doesn't go any farther yet. The enveloping heat, the pressure—he almost loses it. A long moan escapes his lips as he falls down into Wakatoshi’s body, sinking further into him all the way to the hilt, the pressure never relenting. In fact, he has to take a few breaths to center himself. Beneath him, Wakatoshi is breathing hard, too, still hot and taut around him. They breathe together. 

The first thrust after that is slow and steady, with a long and careful withdrawal, then unyielding until he’s buried completely again. And again. Slowly in, then out, then back in. He keeps it like that, the rhythm not gentle but still taking its time.

“I almost forgot how good you feel, Wakatoshi,” Shinsuke coos, his voice a low thrum from the back of his throat. It’s been a while since he’s fucked him. Though they weren’t above switching once in a while, he prefers being on the receiving end. Tonight is all about breaking their routines, though. “So _so_ good. And tight. Like yer made for me.”

That seems to do something. Again, Wakatoshi tries to push up to his knees but, again, Shinsuke doesn’t allow this—he pins him down, forcefully, with one arm across his back as he continues to fuck him. He knows Wakatoshi can easily buck him off, and probably will soon if he keeps this up, but for now, he’s focused on this.

He keeps him pinned as he fucks into him. Together, they’re on fire, the warmth around them thick and oppressive. Wakatoshi especially. The light from the candles and the sheen from the oil bathe his long body with a soft glow.

_Gorgeous_ , Shinsuke thinks.

Shinsuke can’t get enough. And from the feel of things, neither can Wakatoshi. He’s long since dropped any lingering desire to maintain control—a rarity for him, even in the bedroom—his head dropped messily against the pillow, his large, strong hands pawing at the sheets. 

“Harder.”

Even his voice has changed. It’s strained and rough. Needy.

“Oh my, Wakatoshi,” Shinsuke says in a teasing tone. He can taste his own sweat on his upper lip. “Can’t get enough of me fuckin’ you, huh?” 

Just as Shinsuke debates on whether his attempt at teasing, dirty talk is a turn-on or a deterrent, Wakatoshi pushes himself to all fours—and this time, Shinsuke lets him—and reaches back between his thighs, spreading himself open even further with two fingers so Shinsuke can see the red stretch of his hole. 

He peers through his bangs, over his shoulder, barely seen, “I said harder.” 

Shinsuke almost doesn’t hear him. There’s so much going on and everything’s so loud and symphonic: the sinful sound of their skin slapping together, their gasps, the blood pounding in Shinsuke’s ears, the bed as it squeaks and rocks, the headboard thumping against the wall. But what he sees and feels is unmistakable. 

So, he shifts, grips both hands hard at Wakatoshi’s hips, and after climbing up to his knees and lining himself up again, he obliges him.

Like this, and with Wakatoshi grinding back against him, it doesn’t take long for either of them to come. Shinsuke comes first, with Wakatoshi following shortly after, his entire body going rigid from root to tip before he’s shoved over the edge of reason. No wild howling from him, just a sudden, strangled groan. The strength gone from his body, his knees give out, and he flops onto the mattress with Shinsuke half-sprawled on top of him.

Moving requires too much effort now, so Shinsuke sort of just rolls over off of Wakatoshi onto his side of the bed and tries to catch his breath. He can't remember the last time he worked his body so hard. He thinks it was years ago, in a Tokyo sports arena, with a net set up and a team of six athletes on either side vying for glory and national attention.

The blurry haze gone from his vision, he flicks a glance at Wakatoshi next to him. His face is half-pressed into the pillow and he’s glancing over at him through his hair with a boyish grin.

Shinsuke grins back. This is far more exhilarating.

Time passes like this. The sweat has cooled off their bodies. Shinsuke’s playing with Wakatoshi’s hair, certain he’s asleep, until the larger man sniffs and wrinkles his nose. “Oh, you’re awake.”

It shouldn’t be much of a surprise. Wakatoshi’s always had ridiculous amounts of stamina.

“Hm.” Rolling onto his back, Wakatoshi’s eyes open and he gazes for a moment at the ceiling above them. Shinsuke feels, rather than sees, him chuckle a little, a stutter of his ribs. “You went all out there. You caught me by surprise.”

“That was the plan,” Shinsuke muses with a kiss to his shoulder. “Did it work?”

A nod, then a thoughtful pause. “Why didn’t you simply tell me?”

“Like I’ve been sayin’,” Shinsuke murmurs, half into Wakatoshi’s skin, half against the sheets, “I wanted to try somethin’ new. You enjoyed it.”

Wakatoshi dimples. “Hard to argue that.”

Shinsuke’s fingers go back to playing with Wakatoshi’s hair. He’s halfway finished with finger-combing him a new part when he notices the slow pace of his lover’s breathing, the heaviness in his eyelids. “Are you tired?”

“No,” Wakatoshi murmurs. “To be honest, I am somewhat hungry.”

That’s understandable, considering what they just went through. Shinsuke nods. “I can warm up somethin’ for us in a bit. Vegetable curry?”

“Sounds good.”

They don’t bother disentangling themselves from the sheets and each other, however. The bed frame is askew and not pressed against the wall where it should be. They’ve made quite the mess.

Wakatoshi makes note of this with a pointed glance around their surroundings. “We’re going to have to clean up.”

“I know,” says Shinsuke, who has yet to even move from his warm and cozy spot, except to anchor Wakatoshi in place with a leg curled over his thigh. “But let’s just lay around like this a bit longer. We don’t get to do this often.”

“Mm, that’s fine.”

By now, half of the candles have burned down to their wicks and their vanilla scent has mostly dulled and mixed with the lingering smell of sweat and sex in the air. It’s heady and Shinsuke thinks he’ll never forget it—a reminder for years to come about the night he broke their routine.

Grinning slyly to himself, he pulls himself up and onto Wakatoshi’s lap, pinning him with the weight of his thighs.

And true to form, Wakatoshi’s eyebrows arch high on his forehead, surprised and confused. “Shin—”

Shinsuke silences him with a finger to his lips while his other hand reaches for the bottle of oil. “We’ve got all night. Let’s just try somethin’ new for a change now, mm?”

**Author's Note:**

> My twitter is: milkcustard.twitter.com
> 
> I also have a Suggestion Box here: https://t.co/ET4Ag6NAtr?amp=1


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